The Glass Piano

In the summer of 1974 my first wife Carol, our three-year-old son Paul, and I were living in Knoxville, Tennessee where I was completing my master’s degree at the University of Tennessee. We were living in student housing, and we became good friends with one of our neighbors and we enjoyed each other’s company and frequently did things together.

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One day our friends who were natives of Knoxville suggested that we take an outing to Gatlinburg, Tennessee, which was a tourist town (perhaps I should call it a tourist trap) just an hour or so from our home. We didn’t know anything about this place, so we readily agreed and made plans to go with them. Carol had recently undergone surgery for ovarian cancer and was going through radiation therapy which made her weak and confined to a wheelchair. 

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These friends were so kind and considerate to Carol, and they put forth extra effort to look out for her needs and they thought that she needed a break from all that was going on in her life so they suggested we go on an outing and take a little day trip to Gatlinburg and just walk around enjoying the day doing tourist things. We thought it was a great idea, so we took them up on their offer and set out on our adventure with them. 

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Gatlinburg truly was designed to be a tourist trap but on this particular day it served the purpose of getting out with friends and enjoying ourselves in the cool mountain breeze. And most importantly it helped Carol put her challenges behind her for the day and enjoy life once again.

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We spent the day mostly window shopping, talking, laughing, and occasionally we spent a bit of money on a treat. 

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Our journey walking around this fascinating town led us to a glass blower using his talents to skillfully produce glass art. None of us had ever seen such a thing and when we stopped, we were impressed as he worked his magic transforming a piece of molten glass tubing into a miniature grand piano. 

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This glassblower used what is called the ‘free flowing’ technique to create his artwork. This technique involves gathering a ball of molten glass at the end of his blowpipe and then breathing short puffs of air through the pipe and into the glass ball. The glassblower will then create his art by swinging the ball or pinching or pulling the hot glass with special tools designed for this intricate purpose. Obviously, this skilled artist had been doing his craft for many years, and he was also a skilled performer as he worked his magic on all of us who were watching. There were many ohs and ahs from the crowd who had stopped to watch him work. The finished product was then cooled, put in his shop window, and eventually sold.

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Carol fell in love with the miniature glass piano that he was making but we both knew that a poor student’s family couldn’t afford to even think about buying it so we moved on, but I saw the look of disappointment in her eyes. Later I sneaked away from the group and went back to the glassblower and bought it anyway as a surprise for Carol. She loved that little glass piano and took special care to protect it from being broken. 

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When we moved back to Utah, she carefully packaged it so it wouldn’t get broken. We got it home to Utah safely where she proudly displayed it on the mantle.

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Carol was always adamant that Paul not throw things in the front room but like most kids he didn’t pay attention. A few years later, while playing in the living room Paul threw something, missed his target and hit the glass piano. It broke into a hundred pieces. Carol shed many tears over its loss. Paul felt so sorry and had a guilty conscience. 

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About twenty years later Paul and his family, who were living out of town came for a visit, and he brought his mother a gift. She opened the box and when she saw what was inside her eyes welled up and tears began to flow freely down her cheeks. The gift inside the box was another glass blown piano. For all these years Paul carried some guilt for an incident, for which his mother had forgiven him and forgotten. 

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When Carol opened the present, she and I both cried. The reason for the tears was not for the replacement of the piano but for the sensitivity and love of a son for his mother.

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It was an inanimate object that our son broke, but he still remembered the pain he caused his mother. This was his way of letting her know that he loved and appreciated her and was sorry for something he did a long time ago. The piano was placed in Carol’s curio. Today, twenty-one years after her death, this little glass piano still occupies a place of honor in that curio. 

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Love and forgiveness are powerful tools, let’s remember to use them and teach our children to use them liberally.


Happy Failing Forward,


Calvert Cazier


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